


Petals in Open Palms

by writingwithmolls



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, I have a lot of feelings about the pegasus knight family, Mother-Daughter Relationship, unrequited love... or is it... ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29328717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingwithmolls/pseuds/writingwithmolls
Summary: Cordelia is upset by the presence of Cynthia—her unrequited love's daughter from the future. On a night of silent reflection, the young Pegasus Knight, herself, intends to settle some of her biggest fears.
Relationships: Sumia/Tiamo | Cordelia
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30





	Petals in Open Palms

The stables were warm even as the winter sky hung over Ylisse; all of the stars beckoning to Cordelia as she ducked into the building. Sumia would always be able to pick out the constellations that decorated the sky—citing their proper names and what they meant for the state of the universe. Like her flowers, they held some sort of divine power that would pull and tug on them until they carried out their will.

(Cordelia could never see the pictures that she claimed were smiling down at them, but she found them pretty nonetheless.)

The area was quiet at night, a few horses neighing or shuffling in response to her presence. The horses and the pegasi weren't bothered by her like they were of others. It was common that she would spend hours with them, brushing their fur and cleaning their hooves. Of course, they knew her as the hand that would care for them and even give them treats afterwards. Cordelia would never forget the time she had shown the Exalt the stables, how the horses nipped at the young man because they thought he had a carrot hidden in his closed fist. The horses didn't understand his status, and wouldn't even if they had taken the time to attempt to condition them. Animals only knew who to look to based on who cared for them, who stood by their side and aided them when they needed help. Who had gentle touches versus the handlers that were rough with their steed.

Cordelia grabbed one of the saddle blankets and brushed the dirt off of it before spreading it on a hay bale towards the entrance of the stables. Her pegasus was fast asleep and although she knew brushing him would calm her quaking hands and unsteady breath, she didn't want to disturb his slumber.

Just because she couldn’t sleep didn’t mean the other creatures deserved to be awake at the hour that fears whispered harsh in her ears.

The cold bit at the tips of her fingers, but it was the subtle ache in her heart that had forbidden her to sleep. It told of an unrequited love that was never spoken, but was crushed under the impending doom the war had brought. The oppressive night sky that offered a new hope had also taken with it the possibility of her best friend looking at her with the same romantic fondness.

Children who promised to help a battle that was never theirs to win: a war that had stolen everything away from them and would again if they weren't careful.

The first child to appear was the Exalt's: the young woman still a teenager who stood with an imposing stance that could only be learned through a careful mirror. She always walked with her head held high, her mother and father reminded of the baby they had left back home. Two Exalts in the same camp—both tiptoeing around the words of familiarity they deserved.

Lucina was followed by others, each child a little more... strange than the last. There was Lucina's cousin, who spoke with lavish words and nearly gave them away each battle. A flirtatious man who had taken up attempting to woo his mother's friends. A young girl who walked around camp in large armor and had her mother's strong attitude and stance.

Then, there was the Pegasus Knight.

It was strange having a little Sumia wander camp. All of Cordelia’s best friend’s mannerisms came together in the form of a young girl who couldn’t be more than sixteen. She was small, foolish, and mighty—riding into battle for a man who claimed to be the Exalt and fighting them until they could prove otherwise.

Cynthia was her name, and she would hang out with the boys that had returned with her, her short form hidden by the lanky teenagers as they traveled in a group. Like Owain, she had a tendency to add comical amounts of flourish to every task—but Cordelia could see the confidence in which she would handle her mount. The horse had belonged to Sumia, the stubborn creature that her mother had been training for years. Cordelia would never say it to either of them, but Cynthia looked even more at ease with the pegasus than even her own mother. The creature would follow each of her commands and Cynthia would read each of her movements in turn. Cordelia could only watch in awe that first battle when the added momentum to her lance ran straight through the enemy.

Cordelia was thoroughly impressed with the young girl, but it was what she symbolized that ate into her heart—gripped on and never let go in the two months since she had arrived at camp.

She thought of a man tracing fingers on Sumia's skin, a night of pleasure hidden in the uncertainty of war, the next day that was never promised to them. Cordelia thought bitterly of who that man could be, wanting to question each one at the camp until she stumbled upon the one that would comfort her friend as she reached her peak.

Sumia’s cheeks tinged pink, her fingers tangled in another’s hair.

Cordelia supposed that her plan to confess after the war had fallen apart in the moment that Cynthia had announced who her mother was—it was a promise to herself that would never be thought of again. In the quiet, lonely night, her plan seemed more like one of the fairytales that Sumia loved so dearly. She was foolish to yearn for her best friend’s touch, but only watch from afar.

Cordelia wondered with an aching heart if Sumia had wished on her flowers for this—to be married and have a beautiful child who was as strong and resilient as she was.

Who would she be to take that away from her best friend?

Cordelia tugged her knees up to her chest and gazed at the stars. Cynthia in one of her many rambles at dinner time had mentioned that her name could mean a goddess of the moon. Sumia laughed lightly at the declaration, still unaccustomed to the motherhood that had assaulted her. She was surprised that she hadn't named her daughter after a flower, but for the sky instead.

Cynthia wasn’t the flower fortunes, however. Cynthia was real and tangible, a future that was unmovable and inevitable.

Even if Cordelia was to make some foolish move now, it would mean nothing in the long run. Sumia would eventually have a daughter—and there was nothing in her power she could do to prevent it.

The steady rhythm of the stables calmed her, the cool breeze and breaths of the animals. Cordelia remembered what it was like to return from that fateful battle, with only her pegasus and few spares in her care. It was empty until she had joined them with the rest of the horses in the Shepherds’ stalls. Now it felt full again, even as Sumia and Cynthia’s twin mounts eyed one another suspiciously over the water trough.

“Oh—” a voice from in front of her nearly knocked Cordelia off of the bale “—I’m sorry, I can leave, if you want to be alone.”

Standing in the night was Cynthia, her brown eyes catching the cool light of the stars. She had a burlap sack in her hands and was bare of her usual armor and riding gear. Even her hair was down, the same brown that Sumia’s had been as a child. It had gotten lighter over the years and she wondered if Cynthia’s would do the same.

“This space belongs to everyone,” Cordelia said, unwilling to ask the girl to leave like she had wished. What kind of knight would she be if she pushed the young ones away? She nodded to the bag. “Is that for the horses?”

“Yes,” Cynthia said, opening it to show the apples stacked inside. “The kitchen was about to toss them into the woods—could you believe that? Most of them are barely mushy.”

“That is kind of you, always looking out for others.” Cordelia  _ wanted _ to add that it was something her mother would do, but she stopped herself. She didn’t want to bring her interest into the conversation so foolishly. Not when Cynthia had her mother and an unnamed father… one that she said she would reveal when her sister finally arrived into their new present. “I, myself, was just—”

“Looking for a quiet place to think?” Cynthia asked, finding a wooden bucket to stack the fruits in.

“Good at reading others?”

“The opposite!” Cynthia hummed, folding the burlap in her hands to set down. She spun to face Cordelia, tucking her hands behind her back. The action nearly made the woman jump with its suddenness. “We would run into each other a lot at the stables, actually. I always feel calmer around the horses, although sometimes mine would want to go for a fly in the early hours of the morning. You would bring a blanket and sit in the quiet… and sometimes we would talk: about the war, about your squad… about what it meant to be a knight—stuff like that, ya know?”

Truthfully, Cordelia  _ didn’t  _ know.

She tried to wrack her brain for all the times she had honestly spoken with someone about her squad… what happened on that day, the blood that was shed, the responsibility that was wrongfully passed. Cordelia had told Robin of how much she regretted the day, but only Sumia knew the lasting impression it had made on her—the sleepless nights that offered no break from the guilt.

She had told… Sumia’s daughter of the horrors?

It seemed oddly personal, but Cordelia didn’t ask. She instead turned to the girl, unfolding a bit and patting the space on the hay bale next to her. “And what are you thinking about this late?”

“Oh,” Cynthia said, hopping up and tucking her hands together on her lap. “It’s less thinking and more… waiting. I know that all of us arrived at different points in the past, but I’m worried about my sister. She would think to look for us at the stables, after all.”

“Is your sister also a Pegasus Knight?”

Cynthia looked at her strangely, as if she had just told the funniest joke in the world. “Never. Mother took her up in the sky once or twice as a child and she hated every  _ second _ of it. She knows her family is all knights, though, so I think she would come here—” Cynthia reconsidered her words “— _ maybe _ .”

“All knights?” Cordelia asked, furrowing her brows. “As in Pegasus Knights?”

“‘All knights’ like mother and me,” Cynthia corrected, her curls bouncing as she shook her head. The girl looked nervous, and Cordelia wondered if she was being too intense. She was, after all, young. Pegasus Knight or not… she had lost both of her parents just to return to a past to warn them, to give them a second chance at life. Sumia was a ghost in the flesh, a younger woman than Cynthia would have ever met. Cynthia played with the ring on her finger. “I thought Severa would be with Lucina, but that wasn’t the case.”

“Severa is a beautiful name,” Cordelia said, recalling a time she had read it in a book. It had always rang out strong and pretty. “I believe fate will bring you two together again soon, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Now you sound like Mother,” Cynthia said, a smile growing on her lips.

“It is still strange,” Cordelia admitted, “that you mention we have spoken many times before like this.”

“Well of course!” Cynthia looked indignant. “You’re the closest person to my mother! The three of us would all do our weapon maintenance and care for our mounts together before every battle. I looked up—I  _ look _ up to you. The time after your death and Mother’s I kept replaying what you told me about standing in place of the ones you loved. How you dealt with the pain of being the last one. I… I—”

Cordelia didn’t notice when the tears began to spill down the girl’s cheeks. Cynthia choked on a sob and covered her face with her hands, ducking her head and shivering from the cold.

“Cynthia, it’s okay.” Cordelia put a steady hand on her back. She reminded her so much of her friend, the woman who was fierce but didn’t belong on the battlefield—not because she was weak, but because she  _ deserved _ better. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

Cynthia fought through the cries, the same as her mother did the nights leading up to a battle. “You told me that it hurt to stand while others fell, and I never thought I would need to deal with the same pain. When you were gone—I didn’t know what to do. I felt so  _ lost _ until I took up my lance and swore to Lucina I would stand behind her. And that’s when I understood… I had to live for you. Live for my mother.”

Cynthia looked up to the rustling branches of the trees outside, one of the horses stirring in its sleep. Her eyes were filled with tears, but her face was determined, bathed by the light of the moon.

“Did you… train under me?” Cordelia asked, curiosity overriding the distance she wanted to keep. The hay was sticking into her calves, scratching them.

Cynthia was the product of a man’s touch and Sumia in the arms of another.

Cynthia was also a brave girl who had gone through too much in sixteen years of life.

Cynthia was a knight, and if she were Cordelia’s legacy—she could die peacefully.

“I haven’t been honest with you,” Cynthia finally said, her words nothing but a whisper in the wind. “I… have a biological father, but even  _ I  _ don’t know who he was. I wanted to wait for my sister, but it doesn’t seem right anymore.” Cynthia shifted in her seat. “I owe you the truth, that much is clear.

“I was your apprentice as a knight, but before that I was your daughter. Erm,  _ am _ your daughter, I suppose. Mother would always tell me stories of your marriage, how you were both too fearful of the feelings that had been stirring for so long. You taught me how to fly—I swear it was before I could even walk! And… I thought it would be easy to keep it a secret, to let that love story play out or at the very least wait for Severa—but not being able to hug you hurt more than I could imagine.”

“My apologies,” Cordelia said, her eyebrows furrowing as her heart fluttered uncontrollably, “Sumia and  _ I _ ?”

Cynthia smiled through the tears. “ _ Still _ in disbelief?”

“And that means you are…”

Cordelia never finished her words, instead scooping Cynthia into her arms, cradling her in the hay while a war waged around them and a night wished them together.

There was no more room for words.

Cordelia had one of her daughters, and their constellation was another step towards becoming whole.

**Author's Note:**

> Awakening fanfic in 2021? More Likely than you think! I found notes for this piece from nearly three years ago and although it took much longer than that to formulate... thank you for reading about the little pegasus family!
> 
> Thank you for reading! My name is Molls and I write (mostly) sapphic polyam content!
> 
> If you enjoyed please consider following [my fandom twitter](https://twitter.com/writingwithmoll) and [my personal twitter](https://twitter.com/mollyswiencki) where I write sapphic polyam novels!
> 
> Thank you for the support <3


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